


stomp on rosebuds

by StrwbrryIceCrm



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Bad coping mechanisms, Clay | Dream Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Emotionally Repressed, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Internal Conflict, Loneliness, Mentioned GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), My First Work in This Fandom, Pandora's Vault Prison, Self-Doubt, i mean he leaves the prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-19 11:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29998452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrwbrryIceCrm/pseuds/StrwbrryIceCrm
Summary: what other way could he describe leaving the prison as lonely?
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Dream SMP Ensemble, Clay | Dream & Sam | Awesamdude
Comments: 10
Kudos: 49





	stomp on rosebuds

If flowers can wilt, left to rot amongst others, why can he not?

Shackles kept his arms in place, chains pinning them above his head. Dream snorts at his muddled thoughts each more faulty than the last.

Loud clanging boots alerted him of the Warden's presence -- what a bummer.

"A surprise indeed!" He calls out, eyebrow quirked slightly. Sam did not acknowledge his comment only sweeping his eyes around the obsidian room. "So what are you here for? Because damn I haven't even touched my clock in a while."

"You're free Dream."

His jaw tightened to grind against his tongue copper tanging his taste buds. Slowly he let out a breath of amusement. "This is a good joke, you can leave now."

Nothing.

Loud mechanical whirring filled the silence as a rough hand tugged on his uniform sleeve. "Come on now before _I_ get irritated," The Warden insisted, hand around a key.

Begrudgingly the blonde stood on his feet, a little wobbly at first but not too bad. _Click_.

Cuffs were clapped along his already bruised wrists which wasn't the most extreme thing to happen. Lava flowed from most directions, dripping down sullenly with no noise. He hoped when he made it out the light would not be glaring.

Sunlight poured down swallowing pasty skin, a hiss skimming by his lips at the sudden attack on his eyes. "Shit Sam, do you have any sunglasses?"

"Not in my inventory, I don't typically carry a pair," He turned his head to see Dream guarding his face with his arm. "What happened to your mask?"

Bastard knew what caused the porcelain to disappear though Dream made no attempt to argue it. "...I'm not too sure. Must have got destroyed while I was asleep or somethin'."

No conversation continued.

Minutes passed during their march, various faces glaring at him -- others blatantly ignoring him entirely. He did not feel uneasy by this, having already experienced before and during his imprisonment. What left his brain tumbling were the simple smiles or nods towards his direction by those who did not completely hate him.

Where were they going? The Community House was no longer an option considering it had been blown up some time ago, neither was the old bunker space he, George, and Sapnap used to share.

Quizzically the man looked around, eyes drifting by every tree or plant scattered about the SMP. Dark shades of red grabbed ahold of his sights. "Here we are," Sam clamors, removing the cuffs off the ex-prisoner's wrists. "Hide anything valuable to yourself in there. Listen to me Dream: we will not hesitate to tear down this... place if you fucking try anything."

Free roaming came with strict discipline, how common he thought as Dream entered his new-called living space. Upon opening the door he the lack of anything. Except one measly plant perched atop a window sill, stem short. Hah, how thoughtful.

Blissful silence can only be handled for so long equivalent to himself.

Was he an outrageously selfish man for wanting to bring people together? Perhaps so, everyone else seemed to agree. Methods to madness they all claimed, vilifying him -- crying out wolf when they could not handle such simplistic wants. Dream was in fact their villain after all!

He hated being a tulip in a field, alone without any sort of communication. Fate had steered him the right way for so many years, so abandoning him right now seemed unethical.

Too bad he could no longer lean his head on Punz's shoulder, listen to Bad rant about how swearing isn't real vocabulary. He had caused all of this, hours spent calculating wars -- or destroying nations with an old rival. All he could do now was wallow in self-pity, ignore those around him willing to help. In fact this well-worn warrior crossed his arm sighing in pain.

Dream too was a flower, green eyes making the most beautiful petals. Rather than dying surrounded by Mother Nature chooses to silence his pleas to him and him alone.


End file.
